


For a Little While

by BuffyRowan



Category: The A-Team (2010)
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Post-Movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2014-03-02
Packaged: 2018-01-14 08:51:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1260337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuffyRowan/pseuds/BuffyRowan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He'd never have known . . .</p>
            </blockquote>





	For a Little While

He'd never have known, if they hadn't decided to lay low for a little while after the mess at the LA docks. They were holed up in his old neighborhood, in an old garage that hadn't been used since the cops broke up the chopshop some of his childhood friends had been running out of it. It was a good place to let the heat die down, there was a family-sized apartment upstairs, and in the garage BA was using the time to really trick-out a new van for their new life. Between the neighborhood's distrust of anything smelling of cop and the people who remembered Baracus back in the day, nobody would be dropping a dime on them to the military. 

It was late, late enough that both Face and Murdock were dead to the world and only gunfire would wake them. He'd been coming out of the shower, planning to sleep as late as he could, when he'd heard it. 

He'd stopped in his tracks, towel raised, waiting for it to repeat. When it did, BA still wasn't sure he wasn't hearing things. He moved silently to push the nearest bedroom door open, wanting to verify that the sob he'd heard really had come from the man they'd come to believe was part teflon and part rubber, Hannibal Smith. And normally, BA would've let it drop at that, firmly believing that the man had the right to deal with his own demons on his own time. 

But when the next sound wasn't a sob, but a whimpered name, he knew he couldn't leave him to face this one alone. Because he remembered how hard Smith had taken it when they thought Morrison had died in Iraq, how rattled the older man had been to find out his old friend had sold him out. So he moved into the room, all the way to the bed, then stretched out on top of the covers next to the older man. He reached out, lay his arm over Hannibal's shoulders, murmuring quietly, "No way you could've known, nothing you could have done, man." Hannibal flinched, but he didn't wake up swinging, which was what BA was really worried about. He kept talking, "Heard you, didn't think you should be alone."

He could tell Hannibal was facing him, but not much else in the gloom. Just as BA was getting ready to get up and leave the man alone, Hannibal spoke. "Russ and I go way back. All the way to Vietnam. We were good friends for a very long time. And sometimes . . . sometimes we were more than that."

BA didn't move, Not like he hadn't wondered, the two were close, everyone knew that. And the possibility that they'd been /that/ close, well, it didn't shock BA the way it might have, before he'd seen actual combat. "I can go, and you know I won't say anything you don't want me to say. Or I can stay, your choice, Hannibal."

He knew Hannibal was weighing the choices, the mastermind thinking three moves ahead, to the morning and beyond. "I think . . . I think I'd prefer it if you stayed. Just for tonight."

"Keep me away from the wisdom that does not cry, the philosophy which does not laugh. Tonight you can grieve your friend. Tomorrow, we'll be laughing at something that crazy fool Murdock's done. And after that, you'll keep on going, because that's who you are." 

He hadn't quite expected Hannibal to rest a head on his shoulder, or the silent trickle of tears, but he didn't turn away. Hannibal wouldn't allow himself to be vulnerable for long, and BA didn't mind being strong for him for a little while.


End file.
